Impressionism
by Zubeneschamali
Summary: Five scenes from a case story. Lee and Amanda in love and in Paris.
1. Le Quai du Louvre

Title: Impressionism  
  
Author: Julie C.  
  
Rating: G  
  
Summary: In response to the songfic challenge, five scenes from a case story. Lee and Amanda in love and in Paris.  
  
Timeline: Early fourth season, right after "Stemwinder."  
  
Author's Note: The real challenge provided by this particular song was how not to make the story equally cheesy! I'm probably doing something totally different from what Stephanie intended, but that's what makes challenges interesting. The chapter titles are the names of works by Monet, as are a few other touches here and there. Lyrics to "Masterpiece" by Atlantic Starr are at the end.  
  
Thanks to my gaggle of beta readers for catching one very big mistake and innumerable little ones! And thanks to Marni for pushing me to finish.  
  
Disclaimer: Yea, all characters contained therein belong to Warner Brothers and Shoot the Moon Productions, world without end, amen.  
  
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Impressionism: A theory or style of painting originating and developed in France during the 1870s, characterized by concentration on the immediate visual impression produced by a scene. (American Heritage Dictionary)  
  
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I. Le Quai du Louvre  
  
Lee saw her in the distance, leaning her elbows on the railing overlooking the Seine, and his steps automatically quickened. Only a week ago they were officially reinstated at the Agency after the Stemwinder fiasco, and they were already off on a foreign assignment. This particular case seemed like more of an apology than a mission, consisting of several days in Paris with only a little work to do. He suspected that Billy knew something had changed between him and Amanda and had given them this case to show his wholehearted approval. Posing as reporters on the trail of a missing piece of artwork, they were supposed to do a drop here, a pick-up there, and report back to Washington.  
  
Unfortunately, some last-minute paperwork on their reinstatment forced Lee to miss Monday night's flight to Paris. Now he was meeting Amanda on Wednesday morning on the famous Quai du Louvre, alongside the River Seine in the heart of Paris. He slowed down as he approached, angling his walk to come up behind her. Amanda was staring out over the river, apparently oblivious to the mid-morning bustle around her. Following her gaze, he understood how the view had caught her attention. The river was broad and calm, flowing smoothly underneath the arching stone bridges. The four- and five-story apartment buildings across the river displayed a palate of whites and yellows, topped with steep brown roofs, and the twin gothic towers of Notre Dame Cathedral loomed as a backdrop. A gentle breeze rustled the green chestnut leaves overhead, and the sunlight bathed everything in a golden glow.  
  
Sure that her attention was captured by the view, he crept up behind her and murmured in her ear, "Hey there, good-looking."  
  
She turned her head to grin at him. "Took you long enough. I saw you coming all the way from the corner."  
  
Lee felt himself melting in her warm gaze. It had been nearly three days since he'd seen her, and he couldn't wait to hold her again. He reached out to pull her towards him, but she held up a hand against his chest. "Aren't we supposed to have some kind of recognition sequence?" she whispered.  
  
"A-mand-a," Lee started with a sigh. Then he caught the mischievous expression in her eyes. "A recognition sequence, huh?" he asked, sliding one hand up her arm and resting it on her shoulder.  
  
She nodded seriously, matching his gesture by snaking her other arm around his back. "So that I know you're really you. Now that I'm an agent-in- training, I have to be careful, you know."  
  
Lee let her pull his body forward while his eyes swept over her face and focused on her mouth. "Something like this?" he murmured, bending his head to capture her lips.  
  
"Mm." She wrapped both arms around him, and they stood there for a moment, lost in the kiss.  
  
As she began to withdraw, Lee reached back to grab her hands. "Ah, ah, ah," he admonished. "Aren't you forgetting something?" At her quizzical look, he went on, "A recognition *sequence*, remember?"  
  
"Oh, so you know I'm really me," she replied in that same serious tone, while her eyes continued to dance. When he nodded, she freed one hand and reached up to the back of his neck, pulling his mouth towards hers again. Her fingers toyed with his hair as they kissed, and Lee found himself wishing they weren't in quite so public a place.  
  
"Wow." Amanda took a deep breath as their lips parted. "I guess I don't have to ask if you missed me."  
  
"Oh, a little." He tried to sound nonchalant, but he knew the catch in his breath betrayed him. He had missed her, all right, and after no more than three days apart. Boy, did he have it bad.  
  
"So what are we doing first?" she asked brightly. "Did you already check in to our hotel? We don't have to be anywhere till tonight, but it's a ways out of town, so we probably only have until dinner to look around. Not that we're here on vacation, I know, but since we do have a few hours, I thought --mmpf!" She broke off as his mouth descended on hers again.  
  
When he drew back, he saw a broad smile on her face. "Is that a hint?" She gave his hands a squeeze.  
  
"Maybe an excuse," he said, returning her smile. Yeah, he had it bad. Just the touch of her hand made him feel warm inside, like everything was right with the world. He crooked his elbow at her. "Walk with me?" he asked, gesturing towards the cobblestone walkway before them. The weather was warm for September, and he was looking forward to spending the day strolling down the streets of the City of Love with Amanda King on his arm.  
  
She looked at him archly, raising an eyebrow. "You know, that's what got me into trouble in the first place, Stetson."  
  
He reached up to touch her face. "And I will be eternally grateful that you did." Her eyes grew soft and warm, and he loved how she nestled her cheek against his palm. "Have I ever thanked you for walking with me that day?"  
  
"Not in so many words." She turned her head slightly to kiss his palm. "But I think you've more than made up for it."  
  
He couldn't resist the urge to pull her to him again, this time enfolding her in his arms as they kissed. He smiled against her lips as a thought occurred to him. Paris truly was the city of lovers, if they could get this wrapped up in each other within just a few minutes. He was definitely looking forward to the next several days. 


	2. Matinée sur la Seine

II. Matinée sur la Seine (Early Morning on the Seine)  
  
The first thing Amanda noticed when she woke up was the smell. "Ugh." The mold in her refrigerator had never smelled so strong, even the time Jamie forgot his job of emptying the crisper before their two-week camping trip to West Virginia. She lifted her head, confused. When she heard rustling and felt something needling her side, she remembered, and dropped her head back against the pile of hay. They were in a field an hour's drive outside of Paris, not far from where they were supposed to meet their contact last night. The plan had been to have dinner at a little bistro overlooking the river, take care of the meet, and then enjoy the moonlit drive back to the city.  
  
Well, the first part of the plan went just fine. Amanda smiled, remembering how romantic dinner was. Trusting Lee to read the menu and order for her worked wonderfully, starting with a bottle of white wine from a local vineyard and ending with a chocolate torte that Francine would kill for. The candlelight created gentle shadows on the old stone walls of the inn, giving everything a warm glow. She didn't think she had ever seen Lee smile so much, whether he was holding her hand, telling her more crazy stories about his adventures around the world, or just gazing at her across the table, his face softened by the flickering light.  
  
While dinner was wonderful, the rest of the evening was a disaster. After nightfall, they drove down a narrow, winding country road to the bridge they'd been directed to by a note discreetly dropped at the restaurant. Then they pulled over and waited. Before long, they saw the headlights of an approaching vehicle blink off and on, just as expected. Two men got out, not one as they had anticipated, and Amanda exchanged a nervous glance with Lee. When Lee rolled down the window, the gun stuck in his face was definitely a surprise. So was the gunman yanking open the door and pulling Lee out of the driver's seat before sending him sprawling on the ground with a well-aimed blow. He shouted something at Lee in French before climbing into the driver's seat. Amanda fumbled open the door and quickly scrambled out before he made off with her as well as the car. By the time she rushed over to see if Lee was okay, the second man had jumped in the car, and they were gone.  
  
Then it started to rain. Hard. Without the maps that were in the glove compartment, and with no visible lights, they had no idea how close they were to shelter. The trees by the side of the river were poor protection from the downpour, and there were no buildings in sight, but a dark shape in the middle of the adjacent field looked promising. They ran across the uneven ground and burrowed into the haystack. The rain made it a damp and chilly night, which gave them a good excuse to curl up next to each other. Amanda couldn't help wondering as she dozed off whether her mother would be more astonished at how many times she had spent the night with this man, or at the situations in which they had spent those nights.  
  
Now as she reluctantly untangled herself from Lee and stiffly crawled out into the open air, she realized that even with the moldy smell, a haystack beat the cardboard box where they had slept while on the run from the Agency. Particularly the view upon waking. "Wow," she whispered, eyes wide. Golden fields stretched off into the distance, dotted with round haystacks, the early morning sunlight casting a diffuse glow over the scene. The poplars along the river a hundred yards away were waving in a gentle breeze, and she thought she'd never seen anything so lovely as their dark silhouettes against the rising sun.  
  
That is, until she turned around and saw Lee, rising to his feet behind her. Even with pieces of hay stuck in his hair, his clothing rumpled, and yawning fit to crack his jaw, he was a gorgeous man. She felt a warm smile creep over her face as she thought of how he insisted on curling up behind her so that he was closer to the outside of their pile of hay in case the rain seeped in. She realized she liked all the little ways Lee tried to protect her, now more than ever since she knew the real reason why. 'He loves me,' she thought as he approached her while stifling another yawn. "Good morning, sweetheart," she said a little shyly.  
  
Lee smiled in response and reached out to enfold her in his arms. "Good morning," he murmured, bending down to give her a kiss. "I'd ask how you slept, but I suppose the answer's pretty obvious," he grumbled as he reached up to rub his neck.  
  
"Oh, not too bad." She reached up and ruffled his hair, plucking hay out as she did so. "The haystack was actually pretty soft, though it was a little scratchy. It's not a hotel bed, but." She shrugged. At least they hadn't been tied up, handcuffed, or strait-jacketed this time around.  
  
Lee shook his head, taking her hands in his. "Amanda, I'm really sorry. We were supposed to be sitting outside some little café on the Boulevard des Capucines this morning, drinking coffee and eating fresh croissants, not," he jerked his head towards the place they had slept, "out in a field somewhere. I guess that's what we get for having such an accurate cover. Those guys last night thought we really were reporters, and they were warning us off the 'story.' I should have figured that it was a setup; there was no reason to go an hour out of the city for a simple meet."  
  
"It seemed like a perfectly reasonable meeting place to me," she replied, squeezing his hands. "Okay, so maybe it was a little far out of the city, and a bit late at night, but we had no reason to think there was anything suspicious going on, and I think we were following all of the correct procedures, and--" She suddenly found it difficult to talk when someone else's mouth was pressed against hers.  
  
That kiss was a little more passionate than the first, and Amanda found herself wondering if they could just burrow back into their haystack and spend the morning there. As they broke off their kiss, she added, "Besides, I don't think we would have been quite so close last night if we'd been in our respective hotel rooms."  
  
Lee smiled wickedly. "Hey, if being stranded or on the run is what it takes -- " He broke off as she whacked his upper arm.  
  
She gave him another reproachful look and turned around, pleased when he curled his arms around her waist. "Isn't it beautiful?" She gestured at the sun rising over the river. "It's just like a painting. Mother and I went to this exhibit of Impressionist art at the Smithsonian last year, and I swear I saw a piece that looked just like this."  
  
"Very beautiful," he replied.  
  
When she turned her head, she saw he was intently looking at her. "Aww," she said softly. She tilted her head back to kiss him, laying her hands over his to keep his arms tightly clasped around her.  
  
"I love you," she whispered when their lips parted, keeping her eyes closed for a moment. They hadn't said those words to each other since they were standing in her bedroom, about to escape down the trellis. When she opened her eyes and saw the look on his face, she knew the words weren't really necessary.  
  
He answered anyway. "I love you too," he whispered, brushing his lips across her cheek. She nestled her head back against his, and they stood and watched the sun rise pink and gold over the mingled green and blue of the trees and the river. 


	3. Un coin d'appartement

III. Un coin d'appartement (Apartment Interior)  
  
The blare of a car horn on the street below broke Lee's reverie. He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut before opening them wide in an attempt to stay awake. That haystack was not the most comfortable place he'd ever spent the night, even if it was wonderful to curl up behind Amanda. The few hours of sleep was able to snatch were not enough, and it looked like he'd have to be awake for quite a while longer. Though Amanda just made the drop outside, they'd be waiting close to an hour before they could verify the package had been picked up, and it was already 9 P.M.  
  
Lee pushed aside the heavy crimson drapes one more time and looked at the postal box three stories down and a block away, where the note Amanda had dropped was waiting to be picked up. After last night's fiasco, he wasn't taking any chances. They worked for much of the afternoon trying to come up with a place from which to watch the drop site. Unfortunately, the Agency's preferred drop site in central Paris was on a quiet residential street, so sitting outside a café or casually strolling past rows of shops was out. Fortunately, he remembered that Marie's apartment overlooked the postal box perfectly.  
  
Even more fortunately, she was out. He had checked the schedule of the Paris Symphony, and since there was a performance tonight, the violinist shouldn't be back to her apartment for a few hours. It was awkward enough having to explain to Amanda how he knew about this place, but having her meet Marie would be even worse. He knew Amanda was well aware of his playboy past, but he didn't know if they were secure enough yet in their new relationship for her to be meeting old lovers. So he asked her to take care of the drop while he let himself into the apartment and started watching the mailbox.  
  
He had met Marie in -- was it '79 or '80? It must have been '80, because the hostages had just been freed from the American embassy, two weeks before he and a joint U.S.-French team were scheduled to leave Paris for Tehran. Lee and his fellow agents went to a nightclub to celebrate not only the end of the hostage crisis, but the fact that they wouldn't be risking their necks on a suicide mission. He saw a woman with long, dark hair across the dance floor, and once their eyes met, he was lost until morning. After that, they had seen each other on and off for a couple of years, whenever Lee happened to be in Paris or whenever the symphony or Marie's chamber group were touring the U.S. Most of their time together, though, had been spent in this apartment.  
  
Lee leaned back against the window, resting one hand on his drawn knee. From the window seat he could see practically the entire apartment, from the small bedroom with its black satin sheets, to the living room in which he sat, to the kitchen table where they'd -- well, where he'd gained an appreciation for the durability of French furniture. Being a world-class violinist gave one a considerable amount of disposable income, and Marie believed in living well. That meant anything from flying to Majorca or a Greek island for the weekend, to surrounding herself with fine furniture and art. The framed paintings on the walls, for example, were high-quality oil reproductions, if not originals. Most were in the Post-Impressionist style, their vivid colors set off by the deep red walls. Many of the furnishings were antique, some old enough to be museum pieces. Lee remembered Marie showing him the secret compartment in the cherry credenza, and then her being disappointed when he was unimpressed. She didn't know what he did for a living, so how could she knew that he'd seen far more ingenious hiding places than that?  
  
He was quite jaded at that point in his life, lonely at work without his partner, and lonely at home despite the fact that he was seldom alone. Marie didn't seem to mind their lack of emotional intimacy, since the physical intimacy had been more than adequate for both of them. He was, however, impressed with the care that Marie took in decorating her place, considering the frequency with which she was away. It was certainly nothing like Amanda's house, decorated with trophies and crafts and other odds and ends from her boys. What he would have scorned a couple of years ago as a boring, bland lifestyle had come to mean a lot to him after peering through the kitchen window so many times.  
  
He craned his head back, looking for one painting in particular. It was a hazy-looking work depicting a train pulling into the main station in Paris, its blue and grey smoke a contrast to the bright colors of the other art on the walls. Sure enough, he could see it in the bedroom, just visible above the well-polished walnut armoire. Marie said it held some sentimental value for her, though the fact that it didn't match the rest of the apartment's interior had banished it from the main room. He remembered running through that same train station in pursuit of a Czech agent with a valuable microdot, the thought incongrously popping into his head that Monet wouldn't have had nearly as much inspiration in the days of electrified trains. A smile twitched the corner of his mouth as he turned again to look out at the postal box. He'd have to get a print of that painting for Amanda. Somehow he thought she'd appreciate the image of a train station, even if it didn't match her decor.  
  
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. Startled, he rose to his feet, but it was Amanda poking her head into the apartment. "Hi," she said softly.  
  
"Hi," Lee echoed, sinking back onto the window seat. He took another peek out the window. Still no one at the mailbox. "I'm not even going to ask how you managed to sneak into a locked apartment building, in one of the most exclusive neighborhoods in Paris, without anyone noticing. I thought you were going to wait on the street."  
  
"Well, I didn't see anywhere to wait that wasn't conspicuous, and I remembered seeing you type in the code on the keypad at the gate out front, and you seemed to have left the apartment door open." Closing the door behind her and turning the lock, she added, "And *I'm* not going to ask how you knew the code in the first place."  
  
"It's September, so it's nine followed by the address in reverse order," Lee muttered absently. After a second, he looked up to find Amanda's shrewd gaze on him. "What?"  
  
"You must have spent a lot of time here," she mused in that tone she used when she was prying for information but pretending she wasn't. "To know that the code changes every month, and what it is. This doesn't look like a safe house."  
  
Lee sighed, his head thunking against the window. This was the kind of interrogation he'd hoped to avoid. "No, it's not a safe house. I was friends with the person who lives here, that's all."  
  
"What's her name?" Amanda continued in an innocent tone.  
  
"Marie," he automatically replied, then closed his eyes. "You're good."  
  
"Lee, I'm not stupid," she responded, walking across the intricately patterned Persian rug to stand next to him. "Besides, I've got years of experience wrangling secrets out of pre-teen boys. I don't think the Agency trains its people to withstand that."  
  
He smiled and reached out to grab her waist and pull her close. "There's room for two here," he indicated the window seat.  
  
She raised an eyebrow. "Not unless I sit on your lap." He kept his expression blank, and her mouth began to curve into a smile. "Uh-uh, Stetson, we've got a drop site to watch." She pulled away from him. "I'll just pull a chair over and watch with you."  
  
He watched in amusement as she futilely scanned the room for a piece of furniture that was light enough to move and yet looked sturdy enough to sit on. Finally she headed to the kitchen and came back with a black leather stool. Plunking it down next to him, she took a seat, draping an arm over his shoulders and taking the binoculars from his hands. "Anything?"  
  
He shook his head and surreptitiously slipped an arm around her waist, pleased when she shifted a little closer to him. When she put the binoculars down and turned towards him, her face was just a few inches away, and he couldn't resist the temptation to lean forward and press his lips to hers. Her arm tightened around his shoulders, and he felt her body warm and soft against his side. He hoped the pickup from the mailbox would happen fast, so they could leave the apartment and head back to the hotel.  
  
All too soon, Lee forced himself to draw back. They did have work to do here, after all. He could read the same mixture of desire and duty on Amanda's face, and he pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. "We'll be out of here soon," he promised, looking down at the street again. "Then we'll see about some more comfortable accommodations than last night."  
  
"Oh, I don't know." Amanda laid her head against his shoulder. "Last night had its advantages."  
  
Lee glanced down to see her warm brown eyes looking back up at him with love in their depths. "Maybe we can try it again without the hay in our hair?" he asked hopefully.  
  
Much to his surprise, she answered, "I'd like that."  
  
He grinned. "So would I." He gave her another gentle kiss, then turned his attention back to the street below.  
  
Pulling Amanda a little closer as he resumed his watch, he remembered one of the few conversations he and Marie had about relationships. She had insisted that someday he'd find someone to settle down with, as she believed she would when she was ready. He'd disagreed, insisting that some people just weren't like that, and he was one of them. She'd shaken her head and started in with the art metaphors of which she was so fond. "You're like a symphony where the theme has been introduced, but not the counterpoint. Or a blank canvas, waiting for the artist. My friend Jean," and she had pointed to the Monet reproduction above the armoire, "says that even blank canvases have art deep within them. Like a block of marble that has a piece of sculpture inside, and it is up to the artist to dig it out. Your artist has not found you yet." Maybe that's who Amanda was, he thought, laying his head atop hers where it rested against his shoulder. His own personal artist. 


	4. Femme Assise sur un Banc

IV. Femme Assise sur un Banc (Woman Sitting on a Bench)  
  
Amanda craned her head backward, looking at the arched ceiling high above her. It really was a wonderful setting for an art museum. The Musee d'Orsay was located in a former train station, the high barrel ceiling allowing the sunlight to spill in through the arched windows and wash over the rows of paintings and sculptures. From her position on a bench at one end of the long room, she had a good view of almost the entire area that was formerly the train platforms, now the central hall of the museum. She also had a good view of some of the most impressive pieces in the collection, including a couple of Renoirs in front of her that were absolutely glowing in the sunlight falling on them from above.  
  
She kept having to remind herself to check the doors to her left, since she wasn't there for the artwork. Ostensibly, she was waiting to meet the museum director for an interview in her role as a reporter hot on the trail of a missing Gaugin, taken from a small museum in Washington a few months ago and rumored to be in Paris. In reality, she was playing lookout for Lee, who was upstairs snooping in the director's office. He was looking for personnel information on a recently hired night guard they suspected was a Soviet plant. Museums were a favorite place of intelligence agencies, since there were so many tourists in and out every day as well as a fair number of regular visitors, any of whom were good for drops and pickups. Having a staff member who could easily obtain items dropped earlier in the day was also helpful, and the Agency wanted to know if the Russians had been able to sneak someone on staff. Lee had arranged for the secretary to be lured away on a pretext so that he could get in and out with no trouble. She cast another glance towards the doors that led to the director's office, but there was still no sign of either man.  
  
Someone had taken a seat on the other side of her bench, and she looked over to give them a polite nod. A man in his fifties doffed his tweed- patterned hat as he sat next to her, folding his long navy coat around himself. "Bon jour," he nodded.  
  
"Oh, hello." Amanda smiled, torn between her usual desire to strike up a conversation and her need to keep an eye on the entrance. Maybe he wouldn't speak English and they couldn't communicate anyway.  
  
"Ah, an American," he replied with a slight French accent. "You are here on vacation, perhaps?"  
  
"No, for work," she answered, slipping the notepad and pen out of her purse to show him. "I'm a reporter, and I'm waiting to see the museum director. I thought since he had to come by this door to get to his office, I might as well wait for him here, since I can at least look at all of these beautiful artworks while I'm waiting."  
  
"A reporter?" he asked, turning to face her as he removed his hat and placed it on the bench between them. "For a newspaper? You do not look like, how do you say, a newshound?"  
  
"Oh, well, you never know," she laughed. "Looks can be deceiving." She looked towards the doors to the museum offices, but her companion had blocked her view. She leaned back a little, and saw that the doors were still closed. Checking her watch, she figured Lee had been in the office for about ten minutes, probably not long enough to find anything.  
  
"So what kind of story brings you all the way over the Atlantic?" the man continued. "You do not have a local news bureau you can use?"  
  
"Well, we're actually following a lead on a story from Washington, DC. My partner and I, that is. He's doing research somewhere else."  
  
"Ah, I see." He crossed his legs and leaned back. Drat, he was blocking her view again. "I worked for a newspaper myself when I was younger. But I did not have the patience for it. I did not want to be reporting on town council meetings and police reports when there were big stories out there waiting to be discovered." He waved his hands expressively. "Like you are doing, traveling the world for a story."  
  
"Oh, I really just go where my editor tells me to." Amanda leaned forward a bit. "It's not as exciting as everyone thinks it is. You have to leave home at a moment's notice, and you never know how long it's going to take, except when you have a deadline, and then you can never find the information you need to, and people are late," she checked her watch again, "and it's a lot of hard work for a very small result that you don't know if anyone is ever going to see."  
  
He chuckled. "But you must enjoy the work, yes?" Before she could reply, he started talking about his work as a bureaucrat at the Ministry of Commerce, and how if she thought no one ever appreciated her work, she should try writing reports on the agricultural exports of the departements, or regions, of France. She laughed politely and cast another glance at the door, craning her head to see around him. He didn't seem to take the hint, though, and continued rambling on in a way she was more accustomed to hearing from her own mouth, about how at least he could visit the Musee d'Orsay on his lunch break. She nodded at the appropriate points, stifling a groan as he shifted position yet again. "I'm sure it must be nice to work so close to such a fine museum."  
  
"Yes, yes, it is," he answered. Gesturing towards the painting in front of them, he went on, "This is one of my particular favorites. The way the light falls from above us, just like in the painting itself, was a stroke of genius on the part of the museum, don't you agree? Not to mention the genius of Renoir himself." He went on in that vein for several minutes, indicating one and then another of the works of art around them. Amanda nervously looked at the time again. Nearly twenty minutes. Surely Lee would have found something by now.  
  
She turned her attention back to her benchmate, only to find him rising to his feet and putting his hat back on his head. "I am sorry to say, it is nearly the end of my lunch hour. It was such a pleasure talking with you, Mrs.--?"  
  
"Keene," Amanda answered. She reached out to take his proffered hand, and was embarassed when he brought her hand up to kiss the back. "Au revoir," she tried.  
  
"Au revoir!" he responded, apparently delighted at what she was sure was a horrible accent. "Bon chance with your newspaper story."  
  
"Thank you!" She nodded at him, smiling, for as short a time as she could without being impolite. When she turned back towards the office doors, she was horrified to see a flash of light, as if the glass had caught the sunlight as the door closed. She hurried over and reached the door just in time to see the elevator doors close on the man she had been waiting for. "Oh, Lee," she muttered under her breath. "I hope you can think of something fast."  
  
She began to pace back and forth in front of the elevator. Sure enough, in about half a minute, the elevator doors opened again, and a red-faced Lee was escorted out. "Next time, you make an appointment," the museum director snapped. He jerked open the door, and gestured brusquely towards the main hall. "Good day, Mr. Stinson." He stalked back into the elevator and jabbed the button until the doors closed.  
  
"Lee, I'm sorry," Amanda began, but she was cut off by his hand on her elbow, propelling her towards a quiet corner of the foyer.  
  
"All right, what happened?" he started once they were screened by a tall plant from the doors leading to the museum.  
  
"I'm sorry, Lee, this man sat down next to me and just started talking, and he kept shifting in his seat and blocking my view of the door. I didn't know how to get rid of him without being rude, and that would have been suspicious, and by the time he left, the director had already gone upstairs." She sighed, hoping he wasn't too angry. "I'll do better next time, I promise."  
  
"Hey, it's okay." Lee slid his hand up her arm and squeezed her shoulder. "I got what I came for, and I got out without making anyone suspicious." He drew a file folder from under his jacket, and handed it to her. "Meet Michel Andres, a/k/a Mikhail Andreyev, new night guard at the Musee d'Orsay and recent resident of Moscow. He fits the description, and his alias matches the one we were given. It must be him."  
  
Amanda took the folder from him and began to flip through it. "So now what? Do we have to find this guy? It's not like we can arrest him or anything, just for getting a job at a museum."  
  
"No, we take this back to the Paris station and hand it over and let them deal with it. Then we--" he broke off. "Amanda?"  
  
"Oh my gosh," she whispered, staring at the picture in the file.  
  
"What is it? Do you know him?"  
  
"This is the man who was talking to me! He must have been distracting me, and I never even thought of it. No wonder he kept blocking my view; he must have known you were upstairs, and wanted you to get caught. Lee, what if he knows we're looking into him? I mean, he doesn't know anything about me other than I'm a reporter from the U.S., but still . . . " She hung her head. "That was pretty stupid of me, huh?"  
  
"Hey, how were you to know, huh?" Lee reached out and grasped her chin, tilting her head upwards to meet his eyes. "We didn't have a picture of the guy, and what would he be doing at the museum in the middle of the day, anyway? We'll keep our eyes out for him, but it's up to Paris station now."  
  
"But this was supposed to be such a simple assignment, and if I can't even do something like this right . . ." Amanda sighed. "I'll never make it as an agent."  
  
"Hey now, I don't want to hear anything like that." Lee gently chucked her under the chin. "You'll make a fine agent, Amanda King. Heck, you already do, you just need a little more training. And you've got the best in the business as your teacher, after all."  
  
"Really? I didn't realize Beaman was that good." Amanda bit her lip, trying to keep the smile off her face. When she saw Lee's face darkening, she leaned a little closer and whispered, "Gotcha."  
  
Lee's face curved into a smile. "Yes, you do," he replied, giving her a warm kiss. "Now, how about we get this," he held up the file, "to where it needs to go, and then we can come back here and look at the museum a little more properly?"  
  
"Sounds good," she replied, taking his arm. As they strolled through the central hall towards the exit, she couldn't help but think of how much Lee had changed. Even a year ago, he would have yelled at her for being careless, rather than soothing her and telling her everything was going to turn out right. She smiled. Love really could change a person. 


	5. Corniche of Monaco

V. Corniche of Monaco

Lee leaned back against the stone railing of the bridge, pulling the woman in his arms more closely against him. "Now, see," he murmured as he tilted his head forward to nuzzle her neck. "Isn't this beautiful?" He couldn't tell if Amanda's answering sigh was from the sight before them or his lips on her neck. From the way she leaned her head back to expose more of her neck, he suspected it was the latter. 

The view before them really was superb. They stood just off a narrow little path overlooking the ocean, with the city of Monaco barely visible in the background. Off to their left, the sun was just starting to set, turning the sea to silver. The green curve of the hillside around them contrasted with the pale brown ribbon of road. The ocean beneath them reflected slivers of the sunset as passing sailboats rippled the surface of the water. 

Yes, this is what he had had in mind. After turning in Andreyev's file to the Paris station, they'd been unexpectedly told that their assignment for the evening had been canceled. When Amanda brought up the incident at the museum, concerned that they needed to do something more, the station chief had echoed Lee's view that since Andreyev had seen her, it was up to someone else to find him. So with no obligations until the flight back to Washington tomorrow, it was finally time to do something just for the two of them.

Lee lifted his head and leaned his cheek against Amanda's hair. "Worth the trip?"

"I still can't believe I agreed to fly all the way to Monaco with you just for the evening." She shook her head gently against his. "It's not like there wasn't a still lot of Paris to see, and our flight back to the States leaves tomorrow afternoon, and " 

"It was only an hour's flight, and I told you, that pilot friend owed me a favor. We'll be back in Paris in plenty of time. I just wanted to share Monaco with you, and we had the evening free." 

"See, there you go again. 'We have the evening free, so let's go to Monaco.' Lee, I can't just pick up and take off to another country like that."

"Why not? You came to Paris on a few days's notice, and last year you came to Europe a couple of times without advance warning."

She shook her head again. "That's different. That was for work."

"Well, maybe you should be a little more spontaneous, let go a little bit."

He was surprised when she gently pulled herself out of his arms and moved a step away to look out over the ocean. "Amanda?"

She was staring off into the distance, where the city stood outlined against the fading light. "It's like a fairy tale," she said softly.

He leaned his elbows on the railing next to her. "It is, isn't it? Did you know that . . . "

She cut him off with a hand on his upper arm. "Not the view, Lee. This. Us." He tilted his head, confused, as she went on, "Look, the last few days have been, gosh, just wonderful. I've really been enjoying being with you and not have to hide what I feel around you. But," she held up a hand as he tried to speak, "tomorrow we're going to get on a plane, and go back to Washington, and back to the Agency. And I guess this just reminds me of one of my biggest reasons for not getting involved with you."

"What do you mean?" he asked, still confused.

She sighed. "Look, I compulsively plan every step of a vacation, from what to pack to how far we're driving and where we're staying every night. A vacation to me is King's Mountain with the boys, or camping at a state park. Maybe going down to Richmond, because Philip and Jamie should see the state capital and where the governor lives." Lee was raising his eyebrows higher as she went on and on, and she cut herself off. "It's not flying to Monaco for the evening. That's just not me."

"I know that." He laid a reassuring hand on her back. "I know that we're different, and . . . " he trailed off in sudden understanding. "Is that what's bothering you?"

She stayed silent for a moment, biting her lip. "What if we're too different?"

"Hey, now," he said. "Look at me." She did so with apparent reluctance, and he moved to place his hands at her waist. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to voice his thoughts, something he wasn't used to doing. "I've thought about that too, you know. I'm not exactly the ideal match for you, either. You probably want someone with a more stable job, who's not in danger all of the time, who has at least a clue of how to act around teenage boys, who hasn't spent the best years of his life being a ladies' man." He shrugged a shoulder and quirked the corner of his mouth. "I'm afraid you've got me instead." When she gave a faint smile in reply, he went on, "Where did all of this insecurity come from, anyway? You're usually the most self-confident woman I know."

"Oh, I don't know." She leaned her cheek against his chest, staring out over the water. "Maybe it's being here in Europe. This is all so new and exotic to me, but it's probably as familiar to you as Washington. And I know I should't be jealous of the other women you've known here, and of how you know where all of the most romantic restaurants and the wonderful views are, but . . . " She sighed.

"You know what?" he asked quietly, lifting a hand to gently turn her face towards his. When her eyes queried his, he went on, "That's why I wanted to come to Monaco."

"Because you know where the romantic spots are?"  


"No, because I've never been here before." Amanda's eyebrows raised, and he hurried on. "Well, I've driven in the Grand Prix, but that was down in the city, and there was hardly time for sightseeing. I've been to Paris a lot of times, though it was never with someone as special to me as you are. I just thought it would be nice to come to a new place, make some new memories, without any ghosts hanging around in the background. My pilot friend said this was a good place to watch the sunset, and I think he was right."

"Lee, that's wonderful." Amanda reached up to touch his face. "I guess you do know me pretty well."

"Not as well as I'd like to," he replied with a leer. His humor worked, and she broke into a smile, swatting his shoulder. "Yeah, I guess I do," he replied more seriously, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "And I'm in love with you."

He was pleased to see she recognized the words she'd used just last week, standing inside the gazebo in her backyard. And just like then, their lips met in a sweet kiss that left neither of them in any doubt where they stood with each other.

They broke apart, staring happily at each other. After another kiss, they turned in mutual agreement to watch the last of the sun's glow fade from view. It really was almost like a fairy tale, he thought. Except here it had been the fair maiden rescuing the handsome prince in distress. He smiled and pulled Amanda a little closer to him. Yeah, definitely a fairy tale. For the first time in his life, he believed in "happily ever after."

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

"Masterpiece" by Atlantic Starr

The simple touch of your hand, and everything is right.  
The gentle way you look at me when we kiss goodnight.  
You've given me the freedom no other love has known  
And now I thank you girl , thank you girl

The countless ways you've touched my heart is more than I can say  
The beauty that you've shown to me takes my breath away  
A picture perfect painting, that's what our love is  
And yes I need you so, and now I know

Chorus:  
ooooh  
I've found a masterpiece in you, a work of art it's true  
And I treasure you my love  
I've found a masterpiece in you, a work of art it's true  
And I treasure you

Sometimes I wonder what I'd be had I not found you  
A least and lonely soul this world could show me nothing new  
But now my life's a canvas painted with your love  
And it will always be, and now I see

[. . .]

When I'm lost and insecure  
you build me up and make me sure  
that everything will turn out right  
My love

This fairy tale we're sharing  
is real inside our hearts  
Let it be forever  
never let it end


End file.
